


A Far Shore, Closer

by Keiko Kirin (sakana17)



Category: Master and Commander - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 03:56:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3194393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakana17/pseuds/Keiko%20Kirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack Aubrey had no particular wish to visit Ireland.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Far Shore, Closer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [esteven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/esteven/gifts).



Jack Aubrey had no particular wish to visit Ireland, but the sudden desire of his most intimate friend Stephen Maturin to go there occurred at a moment when leaving England was most amenable (and beneficial) to Jack and there was little chance of an active command. The journey there with Stephen was pleasant if stormy, though Stephen grew quieter the closer they got until Jack feared his friend would be silent as a tomb once they were ashore. His fear did not come true, but Stephen remained reserved and distant until they reached the small grey house in the west, near the coast.

It was a plain stone-faced house with two floors and small windows and unlike the cottages they had passed on the way it had a proper shingled roof instead of thatch. It seemed to be related to a much larger grey manor house visible in the distance across damp, treeless, rolling green fields. Inside the walls were white and bare, the furniture dark and plain, and every room was spotlessly clean without a trace of dust: but it was apparent that no one lived here permanently, and Jack knew without asking that the house belonged to Stephen.

They had arrived in the morning under a restless sky that brought black clouds and rain. There was not much to see inside, but in the kitchen Jack made a fire and called to Stephen upstairs, "What shall we do for our dinner?" Stephen didn't reply, had probably not heard, but it was no matter because Jack chanced a look inside a covered dish and found a large cold cooked ham and a loaf of bread. A jug he supposed held water instead held a thick yeasty beer, and he had taken the liberty of carving the ham and dividing the bread for their dinner when Stephen reappeared.

"You never thought I would starve you?" Stephen said with a smile. They ate in the kitchen, and during the afternoon Jack was pleased to see Stephen return to him in gradual stages, with familiar words and looks and slight unimportant touches.

Beneath the rain the day disappeared into evening and though the fire and candles gave the bare walls an illusion of warmth, the house remained uncomfortable and uninviting to Jack. He longed for their music -- why had they not brought their instruments? -- but before his spirits could sink lower Stephen became talkative and told him in great detail about every bird he had ever seen here. This was unlike Stephen, Jack thought, but in keeping with Stephen's unusualness Jack found he was peculiarly interested and listened as if each anecdote were a revelation of the utmost importance. It was not so much what Stephen was saying, Jack admitted, but the way he was saying it: speaking to Jack as a confidante, allowing a certain intimacy between them that Jack had missed on their journey. He could have listened to Stephen describe each blade of grass and not tired of it.

When inevitably they both tired, and the fire ceased its struggling against the wet draught, they retired upstairs. There were two rooms upstairs but only one had a bed, so this they shared, falling immediately into sleep in their exhaustion. In the clear damp morning Jack was slow to wake, and when he did so, out of the window he saw Stephen walking in the field. Jack leaned against the sill and watched him -- a thin dark figure in brown growing smaller in an expanse of rich green -- until the chill through Jack’s nightshirt had worn away the warmth of sleep.

Stephen did not return just when Jack would have liked, and the house held few charms. Jack finished the bread, walked round the house outside several times, ventured across the field in an unsuccessful quest to find Stephen, and returned to find Stephen in the kitchen cutting up a roasted hare.

"Ah, there you are," said Jack, and hovered on the cusp of asking Stephen where he had been before collecting himself; Stephen was not fond of such questions.

Stephen cast him an amused look and handed him a dish of hare. "A gift from my cousin. Though only one, so we will have to share. I had thought to have it with some bread..."

"Your cousin?" Jack repeated. "That is to say... Ah. Your cousin. Just so. Well, it was a very fine hare, very tender. Do forgive me for the bread, old soul. I don't mean to whine, but this ain't exactly a Fiddler's Green."

"Yes," admitted Stephen. "But fear not. We are not on half rations yet." He smiled with satisfaction. "I say we are not on _half rations_. I have the term correct?"

"Yes, yes, very well done. No: I was just wondering where the full rations were, if you take my meaning." Jack's gaze settled on the last bit of hare in Stephen's dish as Stephen grasped the exposed bone.

"You may have the rest of the ham if you are wasting away," Stephen said and fixed him with a disapproving glare. "There will be venison tonight, and cheese, bread. Brought from the house, so."

"I miss our music," he said when they'd finished the hare. "The silence can be blessed but at the present is merely gloomy."

"Do you know, I had the same thought," Jack said, uncovering the remnants of the ham. "This is a very fine little house, dear heart, very clean and not so lubberly, but music would be most welcome here."

Stephen seemed suspicious of Jack's high praise of his house but nodded in agreement. Jack finished the ham and refrained from asking how long they must wait for the venison. Some meagre sunlight had escaped its cloudy confines so they ventured on a leisurely stroll through the fields, Stephen pointing out particular spots where he had witnessed birds and other animals in times past. Jack wondered if these were ancient memories from childhood but did not like to ask.

The distant manor house grew closer and larger and, Jack was disappointed to see, rather plain and drab. Stephen's cottage was the little girl in bright petticoats to this old spinster aunt of a house. Much to Jack's relief Stephen did not offer to take him to the manor house and steered their path away.

When they returned to the small house Jack rested outside with the sun locked in an indecisive battle with the clouds; he fell asleep. He woke with the clouds' victory celebrated with a cold wind and to his delight found Stephen in the kitchen with the venison and cheese and a handsome amount of bread.

"A captain's table, if I may say so, Stephen."

Stephen smiled. "You may."

The bountiful food and beer warmed Jack into his natural at-sea joviality, and Stephen was not so reserved. After their meal, when they retired to bed, Jack's spirits were as high as if they had just played an intricate Corelli. He stole a kiss as he settled in the bed. Was rewarded with many more kisses, and they shared a most pleasant, intimate and satisfying night.

At dawn, awake in the little grey room and resting his head on Stephen's shoulder, Jack said, "This house is very like you, I should say. Very private, and at first seeming rather odd and cool. But now most inviting."

Stephen lazily stroked Jack's hair. "Rather odd and cool, is it?" He sounded amused. "I am glad you have seen it, my dear. And now I have a pleasant memory of it with you, sure." After a moment he said, "Today we shall leave it. My business here was completed."

Jack, comfortable and warm and sleepy, was initially disappointed at the thought of leaving so soon, just when he had formed a liking for the place. But on second consideration he welcomed a return to his beloved and familiar England and, with luck, the sea. And Stephen was correct: they had a pleasant memory here, in this strange little house Jack perceived was of some unexpressed importance to Stephen.

"Why, as to that, I am happy to go anywhere so long as you are with me," Jack said and kissed Stephen's chest. "Though most particularly I would wish to go to sea, of course."

Stephen kissed Jack's forehead. "Then may the naval gods bestow this wish upon you. And now, if we are to make the journey in comfort, there is not, my captain, _a moment to lose_."

Jack smiled at his obvious satisfaction with his choice of words and kissed him again.

"My dear doctor, we are in perfect agreement," he said.

(the end)


End file.
